


i do the protecting

by anxiously_sarcastic



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, post-Samaritan, slight spoilers for season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5570791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiously_sarcastic/pseuds/anxiously_sarcastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root was standing in the kitchen, slowly taking off her jacket, her whole body projecting that she was in pain. When the item dropped to the floor, she finally looked up at Shaw. “Hey, sweetie, how was your day?” Root asked, clearly trying to be casual despite the fact that her voice was strained and her words melted into a pained hiss. Shaw just rolled her eyes, crossing the living room and into the kitchen towards Root.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i do the protecting

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for all of the positive feedback on my other stories! This was inspired by a gifset on tumblr of basically Root being sad and lonely in post 4-11 and I had the overwhelming desire to write something sort of sweet for these idiots. All mistakes are mine

Shaw awoke to the sound of the door being pushed open and loud clicks of heels against hardwood. She instinctively reached for her gun, despite being almost certain of the identity of the intruder. She listened as the footsteps got closer, taking note of how shaky they sounded, as if the owner of the feet was stumbling around. Shaw sighed, pushing out of bed and tucking the gun into her pants. She turned her bedside lamp on before fetching the first-aid kit out of the nightstand and making her way into the living room. She reached for the switch, flooding the room in light. 

Root was standing in the kitchen, slowly taking off her jacket, her whole body projecting that she was in pain. When the item dropped to the floor, she finally looked up at Shaw. “Hey, sweetie, how was your day?” Root asked, clearly trying to be casual despite the fact that her voice was strained and her words melted into a pained hiss. Shaw just rolled her eyes, crossing the living room and into the kitchen towards Root. 

They fell into a dance that was unnecessarily well-practiced. Shaw placed her hands on Root’s hips, helping to lift the woman onto the kitchen table. As Root settled herself, Shaw made quick work of her button up which was full of hole towards Root’s shoulders. Shaw fetched a bottle of whiskey, pressing it into Root’s hands; Root took a few big swigs as Shaw opened the first aid kit. Shaw went to work, digging out slivers of rocks and debris out of Root’s chest. 

“What was it this time?” She finally asked as she methodically worked, hands steady as her tweezers carefully pulling the offending items out of Root’s pale skin. 

“A bomb. There were a few more men than I was expecting and it was the best distraction.” Root’s breath hitched, biting on her lip and drawing blood as Shaw dug out a piece larger than the rest. “I was returning fire when the bomb finally blew. It seems I underestimated the blast radius. It was a black-out zone so She wasn’t any help.” 

“Idiot.” Shaw muttered, finally pulling out the last piece, wiping the blood off of Root’s chest, thoroughly cleaning the wounds. “You’re lucky. None of these need stitches. But this’ll sting like a bitch for a couple of days.” Root nodded, exhaustion in her eyes as she watched Shaw place bandages over the cuts. 

“This could have been a lot worse, you know.” Shaw said, a little heat in her voice as she moved away from Root, moving to sterilize the tweezers. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You could’ve been killed. Then what? What happens if you die?” Shaw’s voice rose a little with each word, slamming the tweezers down on the counter and turning to face Root. The other woman had slipped off the table and was facing her. She looked like a child, standing there in her jeans and bra, chest littered with bandages and band-aids. Her head was slightly bowed, her dirty hair covering part of her face. There was a smudge of soot down her cheek and Shaw found herself wanting to wipe it away. Wanting to wipe away the sad look on Root's face. When she spoke, her voice was small, but sure. “I’m interchangeable. She can find another interface; someone else to do Her work.” 

“We both know I wasn’t talking about the analogue-interface.” Shaw finally said. 

Root’s head snapped up, her eyes wide and something unrecognizable on her face. “Sameen,-“ 

“Go take a shower.” Shaw interrupted. “The bandages are waterproof and you’re covered in dirt.” Shaw turned back to cleaning up, feeling Root’s gaze on her like a physical touch. After a couple of moments, it finally moved and she listened as Root moved into the bedroom. The bathroom door clicked close and the sound of the shower soon followed.

Shaw calmly packed the rest of her things into the first aid box, closing it, before turning and slamming her first into the wall. She welcomed the pain against her knuckles, flexing her hand and staring at the red skin that would certainly bruise. She could understand this pain. She could comprehend why it hurt.

The pain that Root caused was another story.

Shaw had heard the scream on that day; it had echoed through her mind and sometimes, even now that she was safe, it haunted her dreams. She had heard the stories of how Root had tortured and searched, all in Shaw’s name. She’d been informed of how lost and forlorn Root had been, having lost Shaw and almost completely lost the Machine. She’d heard of the incident with Harold and the run-ins with Martine. She’d seen the video.

She’d watched one day, on the main monitor in the subway while everyone else was away. She’d seen clearly as Root climbed up on to the ledge. She’d heard her demands; Shaw’s location or Root’s death. She’d seen the look of horror on Harold’s face and the sad, determination on Root’s. Shaw knew how the situation ended, but as Root stumbled, Shaw felt true fear for the first time in her life. 

Shaw took a deep breath, reaching for the whiskey and leaning against the counter as she drank. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, trying to clear her mind, but finally the water turn off. She waited, listening to Root digging for pajamas in the bedroom and listen to the grunts of pain as she pulled on her shirt. Shaw pushed off the counter, dropping the now empty bottle into the trash, moving towards the bedroom. 

She watched for a moment as Root slid shorts up her long legs, a loose tank top already handing off her thin frame, letting her eyes roam even though she was still a little displeased with the woman. Root was still hot. 

They stayed silent as they climbed into bed, Shaw leaning over to turn the lamp off and dropping the gun on the nightstand. Root settled down under the covers, back to Shaw, curled up slightly, seeming small and delicate. Shaw had seen the destruction that Root was capable of; she knew the strength of the woman’s body and the beautiful chaos that she could cause. But here, in Shaw’s bed, Root was a skinny stick that always seemed on the verge of snapping. Not that Shaw thought Root was weak; Root was many things, but never weak. Root was valuable and something to be guarded, not because she couldn’t guard herself, but because she refused to. Root plowed through life with a disregard for herself and someone had to be there, making sure she was still breathing at the end of the day. 

Shaw slipped under the covers, rolling over and pressing herself against Root’s body. She ignored Root’s surprised gasp as she slid an arm around Root’s skinny waist, pulling her even closer. She could still feel the dampness on Root’s skin and the smell of gunpowder and fire was mixed with Root’s lavender shampoo. 

Despite Shaw’s claims, they did in fact cuddle often. But it was usually on the brink of sleep, when both of them were too tired to care. She knew the shock the taller woman must’ve been feeling as Shaw openly embraced her while they were still wide-awake. But tonight, Shaw couldn’t bring herself to care. 

“Be more careful.” Shaw whispered, the words landing on Root’s good ear. “I don’t feel like you do, Root, you know that. I don’t know how I would’ve felt if our roles had been reversed, and I never want to find out. I don’t want to do this without you.” 

She felt Root nod, a hand finding Shaw’s and squeezing it in reply. She silently thanked Root for staying quiet, knowing this would be a million times more difficult if the other woman had talked back, spilling her sappy feelings. Shaw could only handle so much at once. 

“Just so you know, you owe me a steak.” Shaw added, a bit more gruffly, and she heard Root release a sound that resembled a pained chuckle and she tried to stifle her own smile.

Instead she just rest her forehead against a cool, bare shoulder and let herself relax.


End file.
